If You Can't Beat 'Em
by Oriole Adams
Summary: Niles and C.C. bring their new baby home.
1. Chapter 1

The sleek black limo carefully pulled into the driveway that led past the Sheffield mansion and to the guest house. Niles sat protectively in the back seat beside his new daughter, with C.C. on the other side of the baby's car seat. C.C., who was no stranger to extravagance, thought the limousine was a bit much just for a ride home from the hospital, but Niles was adamant; he wanted to keep an eye on his daughter, and didn't want to have to concentrate on something as mundane as driving.

C.C. fumbled with the closures and straps on the infant car seat. "Why in the world…" she mumbled as she encountered yet another harness slot, "are these cages necessary?"

"For safety, my dear," Niles interjected, as he reached over and helped her release Prudi from her enclosure.

"Well, it's a wonder you and I and all the babies of our generation ever made it home from the hospital safely, considering they didn't have such contraptions then" C.C. shot back as she gathered Prudi in her arms. The couple walked to the front door and Niles opened it. To their surprise, Fran, Max and Grace were waiting inside, and the living room was decorated with pink balloons and bunting.

"Surprise!" they called out in unison. The trio simultaneously crowded around C.C., trying to catch a glimpse of the baby. C.C. smiled and held Prudi out to Grace, who cuddled her close and stared down at the sleeping face.

"She's so beautiful!" she said in awe.

After everyone was hugged and greeted, Fran brought out the champagne (sparkling grape juice for C.C., who was nursing) and everyone found a seat in the living room. Prudi still slumbered contentedly in Grace's arms. C.C. shrugged her jacket off. "Is it me, or is it hot in here? Is the air conditioning broken?" She walked over to the thermostat. "It's set for 80 degrees!"

Grace spoke without looking up. "I didn't want the baby to get a chill."

Niles looked around at the room and sighed. "This is one thing Grandmother missed."

"What's that?" C.C. asked, confused.

"Grandmother bore her children at home, in the bedroom. I guess that was the way in her time, but she missed the excitement of bringing the baby home."

"By the way, C.C.," Fran spoke up, "I hope you don't mind, but I bought a few things for the baby…."

"Oh, Fran, that wasn't necessary…."

"Well, you know how I love to shop, and Neiman Marcus has such cute things for newborns, and Jonah and Eve are already too big for that really cute, tiny stuff…oy, I couldn't resist, so shoot me!"

C.C. smiled resignedly and gently took Prudi from Grace. "If you all will excuse me, I think it's time this young lady had some lunch and a nap." She retired to the nursery and was taken aback. "A few things!" Nanny Fine had truly understated the situation. The nursery, which had previously been tastefully decorated and stocked with the basic baby supplies, was now bursting at the seams with mobiles, decals, onesies, bibs, sleepers and toys boasting every character imaginable from Blue's Clues to Teletubbies to Winnie the Pooh.

C.C. sighed, pulled a boppy from the groaning heaps of baby things, and settled herself into the rocking chair. As Prudi nursed, C.C. looked down at her daughter and smiled. "Your Aunt Fran means well, I guess, but I hope to God this wretched excess doesn't end up influencing your sense of style. Remember always that you are part Babcock."

Her daughter fed, C.C. placed her gently in the crib, and turned up the volume on the baby monitor. She returned to the living room and put on a brave face, when all she wanted at that moment was a nice, long nap.

"…it only makes sense, now that the baby is here," Fran was saying.

C.C. sunk into the overstuffed loveseat next to Niles. "What makes sense?" she asked, as Niles passed a plate full of cheese and crackers to her.

"The wedding," Fran explained, somewhat vaguely.

"What wedding?" C.C. turned to Niles. "Do _you_ know what she's talking about?"

Niles shifted in his seat and tried to conceal a grin. "Fran seems to think that now would be the perfect time for me to make an honest woman of you. As if a mere mortal could accomplish such a task…oomph!" he finished as C.C.'s elbow met her target.

"You haven't told them?" C.C. asked Niles as he gingerly rubbed his side.

"No, my dear, I thought we should tell them together."

"Tell us what?" Max and Fran asked in unison.

There was an uncomfortable pause and then suddenly C.C. and Niles started speaking together. They both stopped, then looked at each other and laughed. C.C. nodded at Niles to continue.

"Well, you see," he said slowly, looking from face to face, "we are already married."

"What!" the three Sheffields gasped.

"C.C. thought it best to be legal before we boarded the plane to come out west. For insurance purposes and such, you know."

"How romantic," Fran muttered under her breath.

C.C. ignored the comment and explained, "Judge Russell Mael had an apartment in the same building as me, so Niles went to City Hall and got the license, and one Sunday afternoon Russ married us."

"It was quite romantic," Niles went on. "The judge and his wife had a barbecue out on their balcony for us afterward."

Fran's eyebrows had been knit since the beginning of the conversation. She reached out and grabbed C.C.'s left hand.

"You don't even have a wedding band, what kind of ceremony could it have been!"

"We had more important things on our minds at the time, Nanny Fine, er, Fran," C.C. said with exaggerated patience, as if she were talking to a child. "We were in the midst of packing and making arrangements to move to California, remember? Neither of us had the time to browse through jewelry stores."

"When it comes to jewelry, there's _always_ time," Fran said, wagging a finger under C.C.'s nose.

"What exactly is the difference?" C.C. said with the infinite weariness of someone who was sleep-deprived. "Niles and I were both there, _we _know we're legally married, end of story. What difference does one additional piece of gold matter?"

"If that's what they wanted, I don't see anything wrong…" Grace said quietly.

"I have _so_ much to teach you," Fran interrupted, squeezing in between C.C. and Niles, and putting her arm around C.C.'s shoulders. "OK, I know what it's like to have a newborn, in fact I know what it's like times two!" She gave her unique honk of laughter. "So you're going to be too busy to plan a proper wedding…"

"Nan- er,Fran, I already told you, we're married, we've had our wedding."

"Not a **_real _**wedding," Fran corrected. "We need to invite both your families, and have a cake, and a band, and…do this thing right…." her voice drifted off as she rose from the love seat and started making elaborate party preparations. C.C. looked to Niles silently for help. Max caught her glance.

"C.C.," Max said to her, "would you please come with me to look in on Prudence? I want to.., um, make sure the monitor is working. It's a different type than we had…."

C.C. followed Max to the nursery, confused. Instead of going inside, Max turned around in the hallway and grasped C.C.'s hands. "I don't want to wake the baby," he said, "but I did want to talk to you."

"What about?" C.C. asked, a bit irritated.

"The wedding. Your wedding."

"Max, have you gone deaf? Have I not already said three times that…."

"C.C., please," Maxwell held a finger to her lips. "Fran has been going a bit stir crazy lately…"

"You mean to tell me with toddling twins she doesn't have enough to keep her busy?"

"No, it's not a matter of 'busy', it's a matter of normal adult interaction and conversation. I've been keeping longer hours lately, as you know…Lifetime is proposing a made-for-TV movie of one of our off-Broadway plays, and the network is talking about re-casting the neighbor in the sitcom…to cut a long story short, I've been away from home a lot, and Fran seems to be lacking companionship. I get home long after dinner, we talk a bit, but I'm sure it's not enough. Planning a big party would lift her spirits enormously. Talking to caterers and such would give her a break from Baby Einstein, you see?" He ended his sentence with a tone of pleading.

C.C. thought a moment and sighed heavily. She no longer had any romantic feelings towards Maxwell, but nevertheless, she couldn't resist his big brown puppy eyes.

"OK," she relented, "if you insist. We'll have a freakin' wedding."

Max clasped her hands, leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thank you," he said simply.

When C.C. returned to the living room, Grace asked anxiously, "you guys were gone a long time, is Prudi alright?"

"She's fine," C.C. assured her. "And you're obviously going to be an overprotective godmother." They both laughed. "Fran, I've thought about it, and you're right; why should we deny ourselves the opportunity to collect presents? Go ahead, go crazy, throw us a wedding."

She sat back down next to Niles, and he squeezed her hand. They surreptitiously exchanged a glance. "What in the world have we let ourselves in for?" was the unspoken question between them.


	2. Chapter 2

Niles walked into the den with a steaming tea kettle in hand. He refilled the cup on C.C.'s desk and gingerly stepped out of the way as she paced past him.

"There's more than one chubby kid in this world that can do skateboard tricks," she was saying as she walked the floor with Prudi slung over her shoulder. She patted the baby's back as she spoke into her wireless phone headset. C.C. was working up a lather, and Niles chuckled quietly to himself. Prudi slumbered peacefully, not at all bothered by her mother's escalating blood pressure. It was as if the baby understood that her mother was in her element when she was riled about something.

"Hey, we can put the stripey T-shirt on some other fat kid, no skin off my Ashtabula." She was quiet for a moment while she listened. Niles could overhear some indistinct shouting from the other end. "Listen," C.C. interrupted, switching Prudi to the other shoulder, "I've got six words for you: Darrin Stephens. Becky Conner. Chris Partridge. Think about it." She pressed the disconnect button and removed the earpiece. "Give 'em an inch and they'll take a mile," she said to the bundle in her arms.

"Problems, dear?" Niles asked, reaching his arms out. C.C. gently placed Prudi in his arms, and then stretched lazily before settling down in her desk chair and sipping her tea. "Oh, just the usual," she sighed, kicking off her shoes. "Suddenly 'Skippy' wants third billing and 5 of the back door."

Niles was singing softly to Prudi as she started to stir. He paused and smiled at C.C. "Another agent who thinks he's managing the next Urkel or Olsen twin?"

"You've got it, Butler Babe," C.C. sighed as she rubbed her feet against one another. She closed her eyes and waxed nostalgic on the old days of schmoozing with investors at elegant restaurants. It was so much easier than dealing with all the nit-picky, never-ending tiny details of producing a sitcom.

"I think it's past a certain young lady's bedtime," Niles commented, interrupting C.C.'s reverie.

"Hmph?" she said sitting up and looking at the clock.

"Not you, Blondie," Niles chuckled. "I meant Her Majesty here," he cooed to his daughter. "I'll just go put her down, then I'll make us some dinner. How does grilled chicken sound? I can whip up some garlic mashed potatoes to go…"

"Fine, whatever, sounds great," C.C. sighed, sinking back into her chair and closing her eyes. Between the new baby and the sitcom, their daily schedule had been elevated to chaos level, and it wasn't unusual for them to finally sit down for dinner at 8:00 in the evening. C.C. didn't mind that Niles frequently discarded haute cuisine in favor or something quick and easy these days; lately all she wanted was something warm in her tummy before she collapsed into bed.

"Don't forget," Niles reminded her as he headed towards the kitchen, "we're supposed to have dinner with the Sheffields tomorrow night. Six thirty." He paused and raised his eyebrows questioningly in her direction.

"Yes, yes, I've got it written down in my….well, it's written somewhere."

She heard the clanking of pots and pans in the kitchen, and called to Niles, "I'm going to change into something more comfortable." The horrible cliché-ness of that statement occurred to her at the same time Niles replied, "Go right ahead, you saucy wench."

"Oy," C.C. thought as she stripped off her pale pink Armani suit. "I've been in Hollywood too long already – I'm beginning to talk like a freakin' B-grade movie." She rummaged through her dresser, looking for some comfy sweat pants, when she found that hideous pair of leopard-spotted "lounging pajamas" she'd been coerced into buying at Nanny Fine's "Undercover Wear" party. She fingered the satiny material for a moment and then murmured "what the hell."

Niles greeted her with a delightfully vulgar whistle when she walked into the kitchen. C.C. smiled and almost felt a blush coming on. It had been a long time since she'd felt attractive; ever since Prudence was born, she felt like nothing more than a non-descript, overtired, shapeless Mom-blob. For a fleeting second, she wondered if Niles was simply being polite and trying to boost her spirits, or did he really think she still looked sexy?

"I over-analyze everything too much," she mentally shook herself. She opened the refrigerator door, pulled out a pitcher, and announced, "We're almost out of iced tea." She turned and looked at Niles accusingly.

Niles spoke without looking up. "I'm so sorry. What with taking care of the baby, interviewing chauffeurs for the Sheffields and sitting in traffic for an hour and a half to get to my bar review class, there is absolutely no excuse for my neglect of iced tea duty." He flipped the chicken fillets over and sprinkled a touch of black pepper on them.

"Spare me the sob story, Hazel," C.C. snapped. She poured herself a tall glass of tea, and put the almost-empty pitcher back into the refrigerator. She picked up her glass and turned around, only to be confronted by Niles glaring at her, hands on hips.

"What?" she asked.

"Do you think the iced tea fairy will magically refill the pitcher while it's in there?" he said, nodding towards the fridge.

"Well, where do you want me to put it?"

"Oh, never ask me a question like that when I'm this exhausted."

C.C. sat down at the table while Niles got the pitcher and went about making fresh tea. She watched him as he simultaneously kept an eye on the potatoes that were boiling and adjusted the temperature on the broiler. Sure, she was burning the candle at both ends between caring for Prudi and working at the studio. But Niles was doing as much, if not more, for the baby as she, on top of running the house. She felt guilty for starting an argument; only minutes ago he'd been whistling at her, now they were snapping at each other. "I sure have a knack for screwing things up," she though grimly.

The two were silent for a few minutes and then C.C. quietly asked, "Can I help you with anything?"

Niles smiled to himself. He knew that C.C.'s question was her version of an apology. "If you could get some plates and silverware out, that would be nice. And then you can help me most by staying out of my way. I've seen your handiwork in the kitchen before."

"That wasn't bad," C.C. commented as she handed Niles her plate. He stacked it in the dishwasher and C.C. went to the table to collect the silverware. "The mashed potatoes were nice and stiff, just like at the diner," she added with just enough sarcasm to get his goat.

"Well, they were nice and fluffy when I first put them on the table, it's not my fault you weren't here…"

"Oh, and it's _my_ fault that your daughter needed a fill-up and a change." C.C. handed him a fistful of cutlery and gave him a quick peck on the cheek to remind him she was only teasing.

Niles fired up the dishwasher and the couple adjourned to the living room with their cappuccinos. C.C. settled at one end of the sofa and stretched her legs out on the seat next to her. Niles sat on the love seat opposite her and took a long sip of his coffee. He glanced up at her over his cup and casually said, "Maybe it's time we finally hire someone…"

"Oh, Niles, we've had this discussion before. Having a domestic, some strange person, in this house alone with Prudi, and you and I are out so much during the day – what about our things? How can we trust anyone?"

"Mr. Sheffield trusted me, and I thought you did, too," Niles pointed out.

"Well, that's different…" C.C. suddenly seemed fascinated by her coffee cup. She didn't look up as she spoke. "I mean, you were from England and all, and were a trained professional… In California, all we're going to get are…immigrants…"

"Why, Miss Babcock, your diplomatic skills are showing again."

"You know that's not what I mean. I'm not prejudiced – "

"No, you hate all people equally," Niles smiled and walked across to the sofa. C.C. raised her legs, Niles sat down, and gently placed her feet in his lap.

"Maybe Grace could come over during the day and watch Prudi and give you some time off. She seems to like taking care of the baby," C.C. sighed as Niles massaged her soles. "God knows Fran won't let her near those twins…"

"Miss Grace will be resuming school soon and won't be available during the day. And Fran is just…well, a little overprotective when it comes to Eve and Jonah. She still thinks she's the only one who can take care of them properly. Remember, she wouldn't even leave them with us when she and Max flew to Europe to visit Brighton."

"That must've been a real treat," C.C. smiled, "two screaming babies on a trans-Atlantic flight. I wonder how many of their fellow passengers asked for a refund."

Niles placed C.C.'s feet on the floor and scooted next to her. "You're putting in a lot of hours at the studio, which will only get worse once Max starts work on that made-for-TV movie. And I've got the bar exam coming up, and once I pass, I'll be busy building a practice. It makes sense to start looking for help now, before our lives get any more hectic." He leaned in close as he spoke, and the warmth of his breath caused an involuntary shudder of pleasure throughout C.C.'s body. Niles' eyes narrowed as he saw her reaction, and he added a quick nibble to her neck to seal the deal.

C.C. sighed heavily as she reached her arm around Niles and pulled him close. "You _do_ have a way with…um, words," she moaned lightly as his tongue teased her ear. She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the sensation. Her left hand moved towards Niles' thigh as if it had a mind of its own. She felt his excitement, and snuggled against his chest, her right hand sneaking up under his shirt.

"Just think," Niles growled into her ear, "if we had some help around here, we'd have more time for….this." And he gripped her face with his hands and assaulted her mouth with a deep, sensuous kiss. C.C. responded in full measure. While her tongue danced around his, she pushed him back and unbuttoned his shirt. In one motion Niles pulled her on top of him and stripped off her pajama top. "Perhaps," he muttered, "we could discuss this at a later date…."

When C.C. rushed into the house the next evening after work, Niles already had Prudi bundled into her carrier. "Sorry I'm late," she panted as she brushed a kiss across his lips. "I'll be changed and ready in a minute…"

Niles poked through the diaper bag to make sure he'd packed everything. Prudi had already fallen asleep, and C.C. reappeared dressed in a casual pantsuit. "Ready when you are," she announced.

Niles resisted the urge to say "I've _been_ ready" and simply hoisted the diaper bag over his shoulder and carefully picked up the baby carrier. "Let's go then," he replied.

The Sheffield house was a cacophony of sound. Eve and Jonah were situated on the kitchen floor, throwing Fisher Price Little People at each other and screaming in delight whenever one hit its mark. Fran was calling out from an unseen room to the maid, and the phone was ringing.

"Hola," Pilar greeted them and motioned for them to come in. "¿Desea usted una bebida?"

"Agua mineral, por favor," C.C. replied. "Y té con el limón." She turned to Niles as Pilar scurried off. "I hope tea with lemon is OK; my command of the Spanish language doesn't extend to 'Harvey Wallbanger.'"

"Who's there, Pilar?" Fran's voice called out.

"Mister Niles and Mrs. C.C.," the maid answered.

Fran rushed out to the living room and threw her arms around the couple. "Oh, it's sooo good to see you two!" She gestured for them to sit down. "We haven't had company in like forever! But you know how it is, with kids and all," she grinned at C.C.

C.C. winced with every "clang" as one of the twins banged away on a pan in the kitchen. "Yes, I know how it is," she said with a thin smile. The banging continued and Fran looked over her shoulder with pride. "Do you hear that? Jonah has such fabulous hand-eye coordination, and at his age!"

"Mrs. Fran, when will Mr. Max be home?" Pilar asked as she brought in the refreshments. "Dinner will be ready muy pronto."

"He should be here any minute; he called from the car, he was held up on the 405." She turned to C.C. "In the meantime, you gotta see the fabulous dress I found at the Montclair Collection. Ivory is _perfect_ for your skin tone…"

"I didn't know there _was_ a perfect match for pasty white," Niles muttered with a sidelong glance at C.C. She gave him the expected elbow in the ribs and then asked Fran, "What dress? What are you talking about? Are you going to a formal?"

"Not for me, you silly goose, for you. For your wedding!"

Niles barely concealed a guffaw, and concealed his face by leaning over Prudi's carrier to rearrange her blanket.

"Nann- Fran," C.C. began, with a hint of desperation in her voice, "I really don't want to wear anything too elaborate… After all, I'm not exactly an ingénue."

"It doesn't matter what religion you are, this dress is totally non-denominational." Fran dashed from the room and returned with a catalogue. She flipped it open to a page and handed it to C.C.

"My God," C.C. moaned as she glanced at the frilly confection of satin and lace, "It looks like it was stolen from Stevie Nicks' closet!"

"Now," Fran continued flipping through pages, ignoring C.C.'s comment, "do you prefer a fingertip, elbow or waist length veil? I think the satin corded edge looks best, but what do you think?"

"Niles, pleeease help meeee…" C.C. muttered out the side of her mouth.

"My goodness," Niles announced, plucking Prudi out of her carrier. "I think someone is in need of a change."

"I'll do it!" C.C. almost yelled, jumping out of her seat.

"Nonsense," Niles smiled, picking up the diaper bag. "You stay and decide on shoes and gloves with Fran." With a quick wink at C.C., he left the room.

"I'll get you for this, Ragmop," she whispered through clenched teeth.

"Mr. Max is home!" Pilar called from the kitchen.

"Thank goodness," C.C. thought, grateful for the interruption.

"Hello, darling," Maxwell swept in and embraced Fran. "C.C.! So glad you could come! Where's Niles?"

"Hiding, I mean, he's in the other room, we had a diaper emergency."

"Dinner is almost ready," Pilar sang out, "you should all please to come sit down!"

Fran put her arm around C.C.'s shoulder as they headed for the dining room. "We have sooo much to talk about – we can continue over dinner, OK?"

"Sure," C.C. responded. "I should've taken a Prilosec before I left the house," she thought to herself. "This conversation will do nothing to improve my digestion."

"Home at last," C.C. gasped as she collapsed onto the sofa back in their own living room. "I think that dinner lasted longer than my two years at finishing school."

"Speaking of dinner," Niles commented, handing Prudi over to her mother, "I think someone wants a snack before bedtime." He went to the nursery and returned with a boppy, which he handed to C.C. She settled back and proceeded to feed her daughter. She smiled down at her baby as she nursed.

"Promise me, Niles, that you will never hand her a wooden spoon and a saucepan until she's old enough to cook with them."

Niles chuckled as he sat down beside her. "That Jonah sure has some rhythm, eh?"

"And boundless energy," C.C. added. "I thought those two would _never_ be quiet! And how Fran thought it was 'cute' when Evie threw a fistful of mashed carrots at me." She subconsciously brushed at the front of her jacket where a small stain still remained. "Were Max's other kids like that when they were that age?"

"Not quite," Niles smiled in remembrance. "Sarah was a …. different type of mother than Fran. She loved her children, of course, but she also didn't stand for any nonsense. She was almost British in that respect."

"I don't know how Maxwell can stand all that noise after being at the studio all day." C.C. buttoned up when Prudi finished and rose to put her to bed. Niles followed behind her.

"Well, Max isn't home during the day, you know, so he doesn't hear a lot of it," Niles said as he fetched the wipes and the powder. "In fact," he added, "Fran was just telling me the other day that Max has been working a lot of overtime lately. He stays even later at the studio than you, which is something."

"Well," C.C. replied as she sealed the tabs on Prudi's fresh diaper, "since the baby came, I thought it was important to spend more time at home that at work." She paused and looked up. "Oh God, did I just say that?"

"Maxwell _has_ been through the new daddy thing three times previously," C.C. continued as they headed towards their bedroom, "maybe the shine has worn off."

"Do you really think that's possible? Take one look at Prudi and tell me that that sight, that experience, would ever lose its magic."

"You're right, of course," C.C. admitted. "Maybe I'm just looking for excuses for Max to work so late. He's making me feel like a slacker."

The couple slid under the covers and curled up against one another.

"You said Fran mentioned Max working late?" C.C. asked.

"Mmmm," he murmured against her neck sleepily, "She just made a comment. I don't think she was concerned or worried…."

C.C. heard his breathing grow slow and even, and she knew he was almost asleep.

"You know, I've been thinking," she began.

"Well, this **is** a red letter day, then, isn't it," Niles shifted his position and stretched.

"I've been thinking," she continued, "that if Jonah and Eve are _that_ rambunctious after being with their own mother all day…maybe having some help around here wouldn't be so bad after all. If, God forbid, Prudi gets hyper-energetic like them when she's older, well, at least we'd have a break from it now and then. And you'd still be nearby, to keep an eye on things…" (…and then hopefully you won't start finding excuses to stay away, she thought to herself.)

"I'll start making some calls first thing tomorrow," Niles said before she could change her mind.

to be continued


	3. Chapter 3

"Can I bring you a special coffee, m'am?" Nanny Barnes asked anxiously.

C.C. set down her briefcase, sat back in the La-Z-Boy and kicked her shoes off. "That would be nice, yes."

As Nanny Barnes scurried off to prepare her drink, C.C. made tiny fists with her toes against the carpet. "For crying out loud," she thought to herself, "she's brought me the same drink every day after work for the past two months, and she still feels the need to ask."

Niles had hired the sixty-something Scottish dowager after interviewing scores of prospective nannies. Gwendolyn Barnes was widow who'd relocated to Los Angeles after the death of her husband. Her only child hadn't survived infancy, so she welcomed the opportunity to work with a baby. There was more to the story, C.C. was sure, but that was all she remembered. All that mattered to her was that Nanny Barnes spoke English, sort of, and she was grey-haired and dressed frumpily, so hopefully Niles would not cast a second glance her way. C.C. trusted Niles implicitly, but she still couldn't completely erase the picture of the young, doe-eyed, shapely Pilar that tended to the Sheffield household. And, as adverse to hiring staff as she'd been, C.C. had to admit that it was wonderful to sleep through the night and know that Nanny Barnes was tending to Prudi when she cried.

Nanny Barnes set the steaming mug down in front of C.C. It was her own special concoction – a shot of whiskey, an equal shot of maple syrup, hot coffee, all topped with whipped cream. She hadn't had an alcoholic drink since she'd first discovered she was pregnant, but now, even though she was still nursing, her doctor had told her that one small drink probably wouldn't be harmful, so she allowed herself this after-work treat. "Hell," she thought to herself, "my own mother had Bloody Marys for breakfast when she was expecting me, and I turned out O.K." She grinned at that thought, imagining Niles' snarky reply had he heart it.

"How's Prudi? Is she still napping? Anything happen today?" C.C. asked after a long sip of coffee.

"Aye, she was a right angel today," Mrs. Barnes smiled. "She's using her sippy cup like a pro, and you should see her grasping at her toys. I think red's her favorite color, it is."

"I'm going to peek in on her and get changed," C.C. said, standing up and stretching.

"Dinner is in 'alf an hour," Nanny Barnes told her. "Mr. Niles had everything all fixed before he left for class and only left it for me to turn on the cooker."

C.C. bent over her daughter's crib. She couldn't help but smile as she watched her daughter slumber, on fist tucked under her chin. "She's getting so big," she thought. As if sensing her mother's presence, the babe sighed heavily and turned her face toward C.C. C.C. ever so gently reached over and stroked Prudi's head. After a few minutes, she retreated to her bedroom and changed into casual clothes.

C.C. returned to the den and her coffee. When Nanny Barnes scurried by, C.C. intercepted her and inquired, "Did Niles say when he'd be home?"

"He's got his class tonight, m'am," Gwen explained.

C.C. resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I know that," she replied. "But he's late, even with his class." As a rule, Niles had always made it home before C.C. But this was the third time in a month that he'd been extraordinarily late. Not that she was keeping track, of course.

"Maybe he had to stay after school," Gwendolyn chuckled, scooping up C.C.'s empty mug. "Would you like some more coffee, m'am?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," C.C. replied. She secretly hated the little thoughts that were nudging at the back of her mind. Maybe traffic has just been bad lately. That's why he's late. And Maxwell, too. They've both been caught up in heavy traffic…."

"M'am you've got visitors," Nanny Barnes announced as Fran pushed past her, with Grace trailing behind.

"C.C., you got a minute? I want to go over these hotel arrangements with you…"

C.C. suppressed a sigh. By one delaying tactic or another, she'd been able to deflect Nanny Fine's wedding preparations for a couple of months, but now she was running out of excuses. And Max had been on her back to cooperate – Fran needed to apply her something, he said.

"I'm sure whatever you've worked out is fine," C.C. tried to placate Fran. Then she actually took the time to look at the piece of paper Fran was thrusting her way. She saw some familiar names – particularly her mother, father and brother on the list.

"What what?" C.C. asked, shaking her head in confusion.

"What do you mean, what?" Fran replied.

"I mean, what is this about my mother and father, and Noel, on your list? They don't even know about me and Niles."

At that point C.C. noticed Grace trying to shrink and hide behind Fran. "They _don't_ know about me and Niles, do they?" she asked pointedly.

Grace cleared her throat and fumbled for a moment. "Well…..you know all those times I babysat for you, you left your address book by the phone…."

"That book was for _emergencies_," C.C. responded evenly.

"Well, I couldn't help it if Fran asked me for a few phone numbers while I was here," Grace mumbled, looking at her feet.

"You don't mean to say you actually…."

"Yes," Fran beamed, "your mother, dad, and brother are all gonna be here!"

"Oh my goodness…." C.C. sank back into the couch cushions.

"Sorry I'm late!" Niles' voice heralded from the distance.

He walked into the den and took in the tableau that greeted him. "What goes on?" he asked.

"Ask Fran," C.C. said, her shoulders limp in defeat.

"Oh, Niles, I'm glad you're here," Fran interjected. "Do you think your parents will be OK with a room with a king bed instead of a suite?"

Niles shook his head as if to comprehend. "What? You've been in contact with my parents?"

"Of course! They can't wait to see their granddaughter. Now, about the hotel room…."

Niles glanced helplessly at C.C. She shrugged in response.

"A king room will be OK," Niles told Fran.

"And I guess my relatives will all require rooms of their own," C.C. added, more to end the discussion than anything else.

Fran didn't catch C.C.'s disdain and continued eagerly on from her list. "We've got the chapel booked for the 24th. If you don't have a dress by the 15th, let me know. I've got a cousin who can get you a fabulous number wholesale. Do you have a color preference for flowers? Otherwise Ma knows someone in the business…." The rest of her words were lost on C.C., who was still stuck on the fact that her family was coming to see her. Her family that apparently knew she was married, but probably didn't know her groom was a butler. Oy, she thought to herself. This is why she had married Niles secretly and quietly. No snarky comments from the peanut gallery, just a quick ceremony to make it legal between her and the man she loved.

The TV studio was C.C.'s safe haven these days – a retreat from the endless wedding preparations, and – she hated to admit it – the never ending demands of motherhood. She didn't quite understand it. When she'd first come home from the hospital with Prudi, she couldn't spend enough time with her. Even waking up several times during the night didn't distress her; she loved spending every moment she could with her daughter. But, for some reason, the past several weeks had been different. Was it because Prudi was no longer breastfeeding? Was it because work was more demanding since Maxwell never seemed to be around? Was it because Niles was spending more time away studying for his bar exam? Whatever the reason, lately C.C. felt absolutely exhausted by the time she got home from work. Maybe it was the commute; she'd never been this tired in New York, traveling between Maxwell's home and her apartment.

Despite her fatigue, she still relished her work and kept the sitcom on its toes. She sunk her teeth into the negotiations between ego-inflated stars and their agents, and used her contacts to land some big-name guest stars. In many ways she missed New York; Hollywood was certainly a different pace, a different lifestyle, and C.C. often secretly lost patience with the laid-back attitude of the television studio and its employees.

"I really thought I'd never see the day when someone showed up for a business luncheon wearing a tank top," C.C. said to Niles over dinner one evening.

Niles chuckled. "You really miss Broadway, don't you?"

"Well, I certainly miss a certain business sensibility. I mean, in New York, you wouldn't get seated at most of your finer restaurants in a tank top." She shuddered involuntarily at the thought.

"Are you feeling OK?" Niles asked. "You've been looking a little pale lately."

"Oh, bite me. If I'm pale, it's because of these microwaved dinners you've been feeding me every time you come home late."

He stood up and gave an elaborate bow. "My apologies for excessive studying in the attempt of bettering myself."

"Oh, Niles, you know I don't mean it," C.C. sighed, physically exhausted and mentally befuddled. "There's just so much going on…between the show, your bar exam, Fran and this stoooopid wedding, me meeting your parents, and my family coming….for heaven's sake," she buried her face in her arms, "it's too much to bear."

Niles pulled C.C. up to his chest and curled over her. "Everything will work out, you'll see." He stroked her head, but was secretly concerned. He'd noticed that C.C. seemed to tire easily these days. Nanny Barnes used to have to almost forcefully take Prudi from C.C.'s arms to put her to bed at night, but lately, C.C. gave Prudi some perfunctory attention after dinner and then conked out on the sofa. He made a mental note to ask C.C.'s neurologist about this, and see if perhaps some tests were in order.


	4. Chapter 4

"I don't know," Fran commented as C.C. slowly turned in front of the three-way mirror. "I think it should have some bows, or ribbons, or…something."

"I'm really not the frilly type," C.C. replied, sighing heavily and trying to maintain her composure. It had been a hellish day, driving from bridal shop to bridal shop in Encino. She had begun to wonder if, during Fran's bridal consultant days, she had ever heard of the expression "the customer is always right." C.C. had finally steered Fran to Rodeo Drive, and was modeling an elegant Armani suit in pale peach. The skirt fell to mid-calf and had a seductive slit. The jacket had satin lapels and cuffs, and the fabric hugged her curves. C.C. turned again and murmured, "with just the right hat…."

"No, no, Jonah!" Grace's voice interrupted her. The lanky teen rushed past the staging area and grabbed Jonah just as he was about to topple over a mannequin. Grace scooped up the toddler and wrenched his little clenched fist from the skirt's beaded fringe in one motion.

"Aw, he just loves pretty colors," Fran cooed as she bent over and kissed her son's head.

The salesgirl appeared with one more frock for C.C. to try on. She trudged into the dressing room and emerged in an ivory Vera Wang dress with a double-breasted bodice. The scalloped hem just barely reached her knees, and the sleeves and shoulders were inset with Victorian lace. Even Fran had to admit that the garment looked as if it were made for C.C.

"It's simple, yet elegant," Fran enthused. "If you're dead-seat against wearing a gown, then I'd say this dress is first runner-up."

C.C. placed her order and made an appointment for her fitting, grateful to have at least one wedding chore finished. Tomorrow she'd buy matching shoes, gloves and hat (having convinced Nanny Fine that she would _not_ wear a veil), and then she'd be free to worry about the arrival of her family just three weeks hence. She still had a hard time believing that her mother and father were taking time out of their hectic social calendars to see her get married. Hell, neither of them had bothered to visit her when she was recovering from being shot in the head, for crying out loud. So somehow her wedding was an important enough occasion for them to deign to visit her? Wait until they found out her husband was a butler. Well, former butler, anyway. He was taking the bar exam next Wednesday.

C.C. slid into the passenger seat of Maxwell's Mercedes as Grace buckled Eve and Jonah into their seats. Her neurologist had cleared her for driving, but Niles, the old worrywart, didn't think her capable of navigating L.A. freeways. Fran got behind the wheel.

"I have to say," Fran told her as she backed out of the parking lot, "you're a lot calmer than I would be."

"It's just a dress," C.C. replied.

"No," Fran said as she pulled onto the freeway, "I mean about meeting Niles' parents. I remember when I first met Max's mom. I didn't even have a chance to make a good first impression, because I bumped into her before I knew who she was!"

Niles' parents. Oh, dear. C.C. had been so busy pondering the arrival of her own family, she'd almost forgotten that she'd be meeting her husband's folks for the first time. This was just what she needed – more stress. As if she didn't already feel lousy these days, with being tired all the time, and dizzy to boot. Work at the studio was becoming overwhelming, since Maxwell seemed otherwise occupied, and then there was motherhood to fit in between… Oh, how did the women in those Lifetime movies do it!

"Did ye find a dress, Missus?" Nanny Barnes asked when C.C. returned home.

"Yes, finally," C.C. replied. "How's Prudi?"

"Sleepin' like the proverbial baby," Nanny Barnes smiled.

C.C. went into the nursery and smiled down at her daughter. Prudi wriggled in her sleep, then opened her eyes. She looked up at her mother and smiled. C.C. picked her up and hugged her close. Prudi began to gurgle a string of incoherent sounds, and then, suddenly, and quite plainly, uttered "BaBa."

C.C. clutched the babe close to her chest and buried her face in Prudi's sparse hair.

"Oh, my, I think you're trying to say 'mama'," C.C. murmured, her eyes misting over. "Or maybe 'dada.' My little girl is trying to talk!" Prudi babbled a little more then let out a wide yawn. "OK, sweetie, I can take a hint. Down you go." C.C. gently placed the child back in her crib and watched her for a few moments before leaving the nursery. If someone had told her a year ago that she could have such feelings for a tiny human, she'd have laughed in their face. But somehow, unbidden, her daughter had completely entwined herself around C.C.'s heart. She couldn't put her feelings into words, but she was linked completely, infinitely, body and soul to her little Prudence, and would lay down her life for her. As she would for Niles. "I must be getting soft," she thought to herself as headed to her bedroom to change clothes. "I _never_ thought I could feel anything for one person, let alone two!" She sat on the edge of her bed and kicked off her shoes. "Love. Who knew!"

C.C. padded down to her home office in her fuzzy slippers and checked her voicemail. She made notes of the calls that needed to be returned, and then logged onto her computer to check her email. She downloaded a file sent by the associate producer of their show; the season finale was to be a "clip" show, with highlights of past episodes, and right now the show was running six minutes overtime. C.C. had to decide what portions they could afford to excise. There was also an email from her brother, Noel.

_Can't wait to meet my niece. I hear both Mother and Dad are coming. Enter the gladiators!_

Even though they had room at their house, C.C. had felt that her parents would be more comfortable at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel. "O.K., so **I'd **be more comfortable with them there," C.C. had told Niles when he'd cast a knowing glance at her. Besides, his parents were going to be staying with them, and that was going to be stressful enough. She mentally starting reviewing her "to do" list while keeping an eye on the computer screen as the clips played. "New towels, washed once to remove sizing. Check. Clotted cream for scones in refrigerator. Check. 300 thread count sheets on their – "

"Hello, hello!" came a mocking voice with a distinctively British accent. Niles strode into C.C.'s office and bent down to kiss her. "What are you up to?"

"About five foot nine," C.C. replied sarcastically.

"If you dare to take time from your Web surfing," Niles raised his nose imperiously, "I was sparing a few moments from my busy schedule to listen to your so-called day."

C.C. removed a slipper and threw it at him. He ducked in time and they both laughed. Niles sat down on the sofa, and C.C. settled down beside him. She reached over for another kiss when Nanny Barnes appeared.

"Your tea, Mister Niles," she smiled as she set down the tray. C.C. sighed loudly and sank back on the couch. "Hope I wasn't interruptin'," the nanny added, glancing at the couple.

"Of course not," C.C. said in a loud, sarcastic tone. "I was about to tell my husband that our child spoke her first word, that's all."

"Oh, he already knows, Missus," Nanny Barnes chuckled as she turned to leave. "We were both there when she said 'BaBa' yesterday." She paused in the doorway. "Mister Niles even joked that she was trying to say 'Barnes.'" She chuckled to herself as she left the room.

C.C. was gathering for an explosion. "Do you mean to tell me that our daughter spoke her first word and you didn't even tell me?"

Niles placed his hands on hers in an effort to calm her down. "Now, wait a minute, before you fly off the handle, just listen…"

"…and you have the gall to tell that, that….woman that Prudi was saying _her_ name!"

"First of all, I was going to tell you about her talking yesterday. But when did I have the chance? This is the first time we've sat down together in three days."

"It's not my fault that I've been busy, if Maxwell would only – "

"I didn't say anything was your fault," Niles interrupted. "My point was, I wanted us to be together, relaxed, alone when I told you. I didn't want to shout our baby's milestone to you as you were running out the door."

C.C. frowned and looked off into the distance. "I feel like I'm missing everything. Like she's growing up without me."

Niles slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "I can't help but feel the same way sometimes." He sighed. "If I'm not studying at home, I'm off driving to some review class…and everything in this city seems to be so far away…"

"I know," C.C. murmured into his neck. "When we first rented this place, it didn't look so far from the studio on the map. What we didn't count on was Los Angeles traffic. And I though New York was bad…" She paused for a few minutes, her brow furrowed. Then she sat up and looked at Niles directly. "I hate to admit it, since I originally encouraged Maxwell to come out here, but I really miss our old lifestyle in New York.

"Ahh, yes," Niles smiled, pulling her head back to his shoulder. " Illicit nights stolen away in my tiny bedroom…"

"To be honest, I even miss that." She reached over and stroked his chest. "I never thought I would…maybe it just reminds me of 'home'. I think if you're not born and raised here, the West Coast is an acquired taste."

"I think someone needs her bean sprouts," Niles said in a sing-song mocking tone, as he pulled her closer and she kissed his neck.

C.C. stood nervously in the "arrivals" lounge at LAX. She had changed her outfit three times before they'd left for the airport. After all, this was the first time she'd be seeing her in-laws, she wanted to make just the right impression. Niles sensed his wife's nervousness and slipped an arm around her waist reassuringly. They watched as people emerged from the jetway.

"Maman!" Niles suddenly called and waved an arm in the air. C.C. instinctively stepped forward with him to greet the staid-looking gray-haired woman who emerged. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun and she was dressed in a conservative suit that matched her demeanor.

"Niles!" Phyllida Worthington extended her arms.

"How was your flight?" Niles asked, as he hugged his mother.

Phyllida stood straight up and straightened her clothing. "As much as one would expect. Where on earth is your father?"

A few moments later a smiling man in a tweed suit emerged from the jetway laden down with carry-on luggage. He stopped in front of the trio and set down his baggage. "Right, would you believe this one case is strictly your mother's cosmetics? I told her that surely no one could be that homely!"

C.C. lowered her head and tried to suppress a smile. "Mother, Dad, I'd like to you meet my wife, C.C.," Niles said.

Malcolm Worthington embraced C.C. in a bear hug. "So nice to finally meet you. Our boy has written us some very nice things about you, you know."

Phyllida offered her hand and then leaned forward, kissing C.C. lightly on one cheek. "How do you do," she said stiffly.

"Let's collect your bags, shall we?" Niles suggested. "We have a driver waiting outside."

"You don't look a bit like Attila the Hun," Malcolm joked to C.C. as they walked to the baggage claim area.

"Well, Niles took my sword away from me after the baby was born," C.C. replied, playing along.

"Yes," Phyllida added, "we did hear about how you, shall we say, swept our son off his feet."

"Look!" Niles interjected. "Here's a luggage cart, what are the odds?"

C.C. stood apart while Niles gathered his parents' luggage. "This is going to be an interesting visit," she thought to herself.


	5. Chapter 5

The uneasy quartet exited LAX and stepped out into the bright California sunshine. After only a few seconds, a limousine pulled to the curb and a uniformed driver got out.

"A limo?" Phyllida asked, raising her eyebrows. "How very…American."

The driver loaded the luggage into the trunk and held the back door open.

"We thought it would be easier to have a driver and not have to worry about parking," C.C. explained.

"No need to explain, dear, we're well familiar with American excess. We see it all over the telly, you know."

"I know that I'd rather spend our first hour together chatting, rather than concentrating on traffic," Niles added, trying to get the conversation back on neutral ground.

Malcolm was busying himself with the mini-bar. "Anyone else care for a G & T?" he inquired, filling his own glass. C.C. was dying to say "I'll take a double," but she was still nursing, damn it. "Is there any Perrier in there?" she asked instead.

"I guess this motorway could give the M1 a run for its money," Malcolm commented, looking out the window as they sped along the 405. He sat back in his seat and chuckled. "I'll never understand it – American automakers turn out such cars as the Corvette and the Viper, and yet they won't allow them to be driven faster than 55 miles per hour." He took another long sip of his drink.

"So, Mrs. Worthington," C.C. began.

"Please, dear. We're…family now, aren't we? Call me Phyllida."

"Right, Phyllida. Did you leave room in your luggage for some new outfits? I was planning on taking you shopping along Rodeo Drive. It's not Harrod's, but they do have some very chic shops. The Duchess of York always shops there when she's in town, you know."

Phyllida snorted. "That vulgar redhead. So common. Such a disgrace. I've heard that she even does adverts on the telly here."

Shot down again, C.C. rode in silence for a few minutes, desperately trying to think of a topic of conversation that would interest her mother-in-law. Malcolm interrupted her reverie with a question.

"C.C., do you miss New York very much? I know Niles does."

C.C. raised her eyebrows questioningly at her husband. "You do?"

"He's mentioned it in a letter or two," Malcolm continued before Niles could respond. "Of course it's understandable…I've been there a few times myself, and it's so similar to London. Very cosmopolitan, very business-like. No palm trees, no culture shock like in…." his voice drifted off as he drained his glass.

"I was born and raised in New York, so L.A. is a definite adjustment for me, too," C.C. replied. "Sometimes I miss the theater, the closeness of everything…having the Four Seasons or Tavern on the Green or the Waldorf just a 10 minute cab ride away. Everything in California is so spread out…it takes some getting used to." She studied Niles' face quietly. She'd been feeling some homesickness pangs recently, but had chalked them off to post-partum depression. She didn't know that Niles had been missing New York as well.

They finally arrived home, the driver brought in the bags, and Phyllida and Malcolm were shown to the guest room. C.C. was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lie down and nap, but that was out of the question at the moment. She had in-laws to entertain.

"Where's my beautiful granddaughter?" Malcolm asked after freshening up.

"She should be just gettin' up from her nap," came a familiar Scottish accent in reply. C.C. spun around and saw that Nanny Barnes had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

"Um, Mr. and Mrs. Worthington, this is Prudi's nanny, Ms. Barnes."

"I'll just freshen the babe up and bring her out straight away."

Nanny Barnes disappeared into the nursery, and Niles settled his parents down in the living room with some refreshments.

"This is a nice place, Niles," Phyllida commented, looking around. "Maxwell has been very good to you."

C.C.'s hackles were starting to stand up. "And Niles has been very good to Maxwell," she said evenly, through clenched teeth. "In fact, once he passes the bar exam, he plans to handle some of Max's business _pro bono_, as a favor."

"When do you sit for the exam, son?" Malcolm asked.

"I just did last week. There's nothing left but to wait for the results."

"Here's the little darlin' now," chirped Nanny Barnes as she entered the room with a bundle in her arms. C.C. stood up and relieved the woman of her burden. She turned to Phyllida, but it was Malcolm who stood up and cuddled Prudi close to his chest.

"Ooooh, look at her!" He cooed. "Aren't you the precious one?" He looked up at Niles. "She has your eyes, son." He looked back at the gurgling child in his arms. "Little Prudi. Tutti Frutti, oh, Prudi," he sang.

"You do realize you're making a fool of yourself, Malcolm, don't you?" Phyllida asked stiffly. Malcolm sat down next to her on the sofa and turned towards his wife. "This is your grandma, Prudi." Phyllida looked down at the baby and smiled softly. "She is very pretty," she said, reaching over tentatively and stroking the silky head. She suddenly sat up abruptly. "C.C., that reminds me, I've brought along a christening dress for Prudence."

"Oh, that's so thoughtful, thank you," C.C. stammered. Neither she nor Niles was particularly religious, and they hadn't discussed any sort of christening or baptismal ceremony.

"We do appreciate you waiting to christen her until we could be present," Phyllida continued, "tell me, do you plan to do it before or after you're married?"

"Maman," Niles interjected, "we _are_ married. It was a civil ceremony. It's just that…" he struggled for a polite way to explain Fran's insistence of a formal wedding. "Well, we wanted to renew our vows in front of our loved ones once we were settled in our new home." He sighed with relief. C.C. met his eyes, and her look said it all. "Good recovery, Butler Boy."

"I can't wait to see the dress you've brought for Prudi," C.C. said with false enthusiasm. What in the hell was she going to do with these people for the next week?

Phyllida jumped up and dashed to her room. She returned in short order with a tiny dress of white silk and lace. She held it out for C.C.'s inspection. "It was a gift from Lady Fermoy. It was the dress worn by Princess Alexandra of Kent for her christening." Phyllida's face fairly glowed with pride.

"Well, it's absolutely gorgeous," C.C. responded, taking the dress in her hands and fingering the fabric lightly. "I'm surprised she could part with such a treasure."

"When she heard about our first grandchild, she said that it was her honor to present it to us. Lady Fermoy was always so fond of our Niles; she's his godmother, you know."

Malcolm was walking back and forth, bouncing Prudi gently in his arms and babbling baby talk to her. "Who's a beautiful baby, then?" Prudi reached out and grabbed a fistful of his necktie. "Oh, she's strong, she is. She could be a goalie for Manchester United, couldn't she?" He continued cooing and cuddling his grandchild.

"When shall we have the pleasure of meeting your family, C.C.?" Phyllida asked.

"They're arriving the day after tomorrow," C.C. replied. "Niles has arranged for us all to have dinner that evening at Spago."

"Oh, I've heard of that place. Isn't that where…movie stars congregate?" Phyllida spat out the words "movie stars" like it was a profanity.

"Sometimes. It used to be sort of a 'hot spot', but not so much anymore. We just like the food and the atmosphere. I hope you'll like it, too. The patio is surrounded by olive trees, it's quite lovely," C.C. said.

"Maxwell has invited us to dinner tonight at his house, if you feel up to it," Niles added. "Or would you and dad prefer to rest? I'm sure you're tired, with the time change and everything."

Prudi began to fuss a little, and C.C. stood up. "I think that's my cue," she smiled, taking her from Malcolm. "All this talk about dinner made someone hungry. If you'll excuse me…" As she left the room she heard Malcolm telling Niles they'd love to see Maxwell and meet his charming wife.

Later that evening, the group headed for the Sheffield house. They were running a few minutes late because Prudi demanded to be fed one last time before they left. Phyllida had followed C.C. into the nursery.

"You're still breastfeeding? How very…New Age. I suppose that's the latest Hollywood trend, eh?"

C.C. tried to feed her daughter while maintaining some semblance of dignity. She'd never really felt self-conscious about nursing before, but somehow Niles' mother made her feel exposed and awkward. "I don't think it has anything to do with California or trendiness. Niles did a lot of research before Prudi was born, and everything he read said it was better for the baby to have breast milk as long as possible."

"Certainly it's healthy for the first two weeks or so, to build up the child's immunities. But this extended nursing seems unnecessary. Especially since you have a highly qualified nanny to take care of her…"

C.C. raised Prudi up to her shoulder to bubble her. "Nanny Barnes is just that, a nanny. She's not a wet nurse." C.C. couldn't believe she had to defend herself to this woman. It was only breastfeeding, for heaven's sake, it wasn't like she was letting her infant child get a tattoo or something. C.C. placed Prudi in her crib and turned up the volume on the baby monitor. It was a wonder Niles had any sensitivity at all, having been raised by this woman, she thought to herself.

Fran greeted them at the door and threw her arms around first C.C. then Niles. "I haven't seen you two in, like, forever! Get in here!" She stepped aside and the others traipsed inside.

"Mother, father," Niles said with his customary formality, "I'd like you to meet Fran Sheffield. Fran, my parents, Phyllida and Malcolm."

Phyllida began to extend her hand, but Fran embraced her in an enthusiastic hug instead. "It's such a pleasure finally meeting you!" she exclaimed, her nasal voice reaching the higher register in her excitement. C.C. tried to conceal a smile as she watched Phyllida's face as Fran first crushed her, then held her back at arm's length. "I love that broach, it's to die for!" She bent forward to examine the diamonds in Phyllida's pin. "Whoa, look at those sparklers! Either you did something very good, or Malcolm here did something very bad, eh!" She cackled with laughter as she elbowed Phyllida roughly in the ribs. Before Niles' mother could respond, Fran whirled around and gasped Malcolm. "Ni-yules! Look at your handsome father! You two could be brothers!" She threw her arms around Malcolm, and he responded in kind, while giving her a gentle peck on the cheek. Fran let go and prodded Malcolm gently in the chest with her index finger. "Guess you can't blame Niles on the mailman, eh?" She winked and dissolved into another round of honking laughter.

"Well, let's all go sit down," Fran said, leading the way to the living room. "Max just phoned, he's running a little late, but he was on the road and should be here in 15 minutes or so. What would you like to drink?"

A uniformed butler had silently appeared and stood waiting for their cocktail orders. C.C. looked questioningly at Fran. "Pretty slick, huh? I had the whole evening catered, in honor of Niles' parents' first visit. There's a chef in the kitchen preparing a genuine British dinner with rack of lamb and 'mash' and I forget what else." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Confidentially, I have no idea what Alan Alda has to do with English food, but this guy came highly recommended, so I trust his judgment."

"Where are Jonah and Eve"? C.C. inquired as she sipped her Perrier.

"They're upstairs getting WASHED FOR DINNAH!" Fran yelled the last part of her sentence upwards, as if reminding the children they should be getting ready.

"Jonah and Eve are Fran and Maxell's twins," Niles explained to his parents. "Lovely children. Will they be joining us for dinner?" H asked Fran hesitantly. The way the evening was going, he didn't think having those two little tornadoes at the dinner table would improve the situation any.

"Of course. Only don't tell them it's lamb we're eating – they've got this _Dora the Explorer_ video with this cute little sheep in it and it would break their hearts if they thought we butchered the poor thing – oh, Pilar!" she suddenly called out. "Would you please make sure the twins are washed and dressed and then bring them down? Max will be home any minute."

They heard a faint "Sí, Mrs. Fran" in the distance. Simultaneously a familiar voice called out, "Malcolm! Phyllida! So wonderful to see you again!" Max entered the room with long strides and extended his hand to Phyllida. He kissed her on each cheek and then clasped Malcolm around the shoulders. "How long has it been?"

"Maxwell, you haven't changed a bit!" Phyllida looked at him admiringly. Greetings were exchanged all around, and Max sat down next to Fran.

"We've just been getting acquainted with your lovely wife," Malcolm said. "Maxwell always had an eye for beauty," he added as an aside. Fran giggled and reached over, slapping Malcolm's knee lightly. "You are such a charmer! I bet you still have a way with the women…"

"Indeed," Phyllida harrumphed.

"Oh, no offense, Phyl," Fran assured her. "I didn't mean – "

"I'm sure I understood what you meant." Niles' mother eyed Fran icily.

Malcolm was oblivious to his wife's discomfort. He grinned rakishly at Fran and commented, "Niles, you never told me how absolutely vivacious Mrs. Sheffield was."

"The _second_ Mrs. Sheffield," Phyllida said under her breath.

Luckily the butler chose that moment to enter and address himself to Maxwell and Fran. "Excuse me, sir, but if it pleases madame, dinner is served."

"Shall we?" Fran asked regally, rising. She then turned towards the stairs and called out, "Kii-ids! Dinner! Now!"

"Would you like an extra-strength Tylenol with your tea?" C.C. asked the girl sitting across from her as she rifled through her purse.

"No, thanks, I don't have a headache," Grace replied, chuckling.

"That's right, you weren't at dinner last night. Lucky you."

"What did I miss?" Grace asked off-handedly while flipping through a textbook. She was taking an advanced business economics class and had stopped by to see if C.C. had any reference material she could use as a study aid. C.C. had dug up several of her college texts, as well as some old contracts she had negotiated years ago. She was secretly flattered that the teen was apparently looking to follow in her footsteps, career-wise. Desperate for someone to talk to besides an in-law, C.C. had invited Grace to sit and chat for a few minutes.

"Let's just say there was probably a livelier atmosphere at the Last Supper."

Grace laughed. "It couldn't have been that bad."

"Your father did his best to keep things upbeat, and Niles' parents were very happy to see him again, but overall it was a losing battle."

"Where are they now?"

"Niles took them out to lunch. I begged off, not that Phyllida tried very hard to change my mind." C.C. took another sip of tea and sighed. "I just needed a break, since we're having dinner tonight with them and my dad and brother."

"When are they getting into town?"

"They're here already, Dad called me this morning after they checked into the hotel. Mother couldn't make it, though; she's laid up at Kloster's in Switzerland. Tore her Achille's tendon."

"Kloster's? The ski resort? I didn't know your mom liked to ski."

"She doesn't. She hurt herself dancing in the lodge with a ski instructor. Let that be a lesson – never try to do the Electric Slide in sling-back shoes when you're six- when you're her age."

C.C. poured some more hot water into her cup. "You know, I didn't even meet my family at the airport this morning, I sent a car for them instead. I kept my morning clear so that I could spend some time alone with Phyllida. I took her shopping on Rodeo Drive, in case she needed any last minute accessories for the wedding. All I heard was how much better the quality was on Savile Row, and that you really can't buy _good_ clothes off the peg, that you have to go to a bespoke tailor…I swear, I've never met such a petty, judgmental person in my life! She looks down her nose at absolutely everyone and everything. Can you imagine what it's like spending time with someone like that? It's a miracle that Niles managed to put up with her as long as he did."

"He puts up with you," Grace said quietly into her cup, trying to suppress a grin.

C.C. caught the tone and sat up in her chair. "What? What's that supposed to mean? What are you trying to say?"

"No offense, Miss Babcock, but…"

"But what? Out with it, Gretl!" She knew Gracie's name by now, but she was in the mood to attack.

"Let's face it, she's you. Or vice versa."

"I'm not a bit like that woman!"

"Not so much any more, but, well, there was a time when all of us used to wonder how Niles, um, 'put up with you as long as he did.'" She stood up to leave. "Thanks very much for the books, I'll get them back to you soon."

"No rush," C.C. mumbled distractedly as Grace left. _Maybe I wasn't always the warmest human being, but I was never like -- was I? _C.C.'s thoughts were tumbling around her head when she heard Prudi's cries on the baby monitor. She stood up to head towards the nursery and was suddenly overcome with a wave of dizziness. Grabbing the edge of the table for support, she steadied herself and continued on down the hall. _Great, I'm making myself crazy by thinking too much. If I don't watch out, I'll end up back at that Place… Thank God the wedding is the day after tomorrow, and then things will get back to normal…_

to be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

"You're unusually quiet tonight," Niles said as C.C. climbed into bed beside him. "Your tongue swollen from holding it this morning?" He knew that C.C.'s shopping expedition with his mother hadn't gone particularly well.

"No, I was just thinking…"

"Now, CaCa, you know shouldn't do such strenuous exercise right before bedtime. You'll have a hard time falling asleep."

C.C. raised herself up on one elbow and looked at her husband. "You know, my little Scrubbing Bubble, if I wanted laughs, I would've been in here when you were taking off your clothes."

"All right, already, truce."

C.C. laid back down and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. "I've always heard that women tend to marry their fathers, but I wonder if men marry their mothers, too?" she wondered out loud.

"Mmph?" Niles mumbled, half asleep.

"You know that expression, how girls marry their fathers, well, I was wondering if…"

Niles' eyes opened and blinked several times. "You woke me up to discuss incest?"

"Pay attention, Niles. I'm asking you if I'm at all like your mother? And if I am, then why on earth did you marry me?"

Niles fumbled around on the night stand and picked up his calendar watch. He squinted at the date. "Is it that 'time of the month' already? Are you suffering from PMS?"

C.C. snatched the watch out of his hand angrily and set it on her nightstand. "The date has nothing to do with anything. And, for your information, I haven't been PMS since before Prudi was born. I'm breastfeeding, you don't get periods while you're breastfeeding."

"Oh, dear Lord," Niles moaned, covering his head with his pillow. "Must we talk about feminine hygiene at this hour?"

"You're the one that brought it up. Anyway, I'm asking you if you married me as some sort of substitute for your mother."

He uncovered his head and sighed. "Of course not, that's absurd. I married you because I love you."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you love me?"

"Because…oh, for heaven's sake, this is one of those loaded questions like 'do these slacks make my butt look big.' I'm not getting into this right now."

C.C. stacked two pillows behind her and leaned back. "It's just that your mother…I'm trying to think of a nice way to put this…she's so…arrogant. I mean, my family is, too, to some extent, but they have money, college degrees, important jobs. Your father was a butler. How uppity can you get over that?"

"It's a matter of class, of position, of social standing. You must understand that the class divisions in England are rather more defined than they are in America. My father, and my grandfather, for that matter, were both royal courtiers. That carries some substantial cachet in their social circle."

"Being a butler is impressive?"

"At Buckingham Palace, the butler is the top-ranking service employee. They not only manage the household, they travel with their boss and become their confidante. My parents not only lived in a grace-and-favor apartment at Buck House, my mother was also kept up to date on all the latest royal gossip, which she loved. Father was away a lot, traveling with the Duke, which gave mother plenty of free time to attend tea with various Ladies of the Chamber and share stories."

"She didn't mind being alone all the time? She'd trade companionship for the opportunity to have biscuits with the Queen Mum?"

"Mother is a royalist to her core," Niles sighed. "She didn't even bat an eye when father was caught romping with the Duchess of Carlisle. Had it been someone of lower rank, well, that would've been a different story… As long as they could maintain their position, she kept the traditional stiff upper lip."

"In a way," C.C. mused, "your folks aren't all that different from mine. B.B. and Daddy lead separate lives, but she didn't seem to mind, as long as she still had a spot on the Social Register."

"Mmph," Niles mumbled as he started to drift off to sleep again.

"…and," C.C. continued thinking out loud, "I used to be just like her. Putting you down for 20 years because you worked as a servant. But look at us now. I can't wait to get home from work to be with you. We have a beautiful daughter. When we're all together, it doesn't matter whether you're a plumber or a senator. It's just 'us', our family, and…" she paused for a moment and then sat up straight, as if she'd had a revelation. "And I'm happy, dammit. For probably the first time in my life. I'm not coming home to an empty penthouse and a dog that growls at me. I come home to two people who are actually _happy_ to see me." A broad smile spread across her face.

"Niles, that's it. Things are going to be different. We're not going to raise Prudi to be status-conscious. We'll want her to have the best of everything, of course, but we'll teach her to treat the lesser people with respect, too!"

Niles barely concealed a smile at C.C.'s oxymoronic statement. Well, she was trying, anyway, he thought to himself. "I'm most impressed by your epiphany, my dear," he yawned. "I'd certainly express more excitement if it wasn't one o'clock in the bloody morning." He craned his neck, and C.C. reached down, meeting his lips in a kiss. "Good night, Blondie."

"Good night, my love."

C.C. had to admit to herself the next evening, while the server cleared the dishes and began bringing the after-dinner cordials, that dinner had gone surprisingly well. Malcolm was extra jolly and charming (a few gin and tonics didn't hurt, she thought wryly), and even Phyllida had loosened up a bit. She'd had two glasses of wine and had pounced on Stewart when she found out what had transpired on a recent business trip to England.

"You actually had dinner with the Prince of Wales at Highgrove?"

"Yes," Stewart chuckled, "it was strictly a strange string of coincidences. The firm I'd been meeting with had invited me on a fox hunt, and Mrs. Parker-Bowles happened to be one of the other guests. We got to talking, had lunch the next day, and then she invited me to a week-end dinner party up at Highgrove."

"How delightful it must have been!" Phyllida gushed.

"Indeed," Stewart was enjoying the attention. "It was a small gathering, and after dinner we all played charades. It was a real 'let your hair down' type of gathering." He chuckled. "Did you know that Prince Charles refers to Camilla's husband as 'Andrew Park-Your-Balls'?"

"Oh, how wicked!" Phyllida punched Stewart in the shoulder while covering her mouth in mock horror with her other hand.

"Sis," Noel was calling for C.C.'s attention, "have you given any thought to a preschool for Prudi? I could make some inquiries, if you like."

"Well, Noel, I _had_ hoped to wait at least until she was on solid foods before I chose a school," C.C. responded sarcastically.

"I'm serious," Noel replied. "You apparently don't know how cutthroat it is to get children into an appropriate preschool, so they can get into a suitable grade school, so they can eventually be accepted into an Ivy League university."

"You _are_ joking, aren't you?"

Noel sipped his cappuccino and shrugged. "I get cornered by anxious parents at university functions all the time. Do I have any pull at this or that preschool? Can I help get them on the right track for Princeton? It's an academic jungle out there."

"And I thought toilet training would be the biggest hurdle," C.C. sighed.

"I don't know about the West Coast," Noel confided, "but I can check with some of my colleagues and find some names for you. Back at home, it's all about Lucky Ducky and Woodchuck Hollow. You should see the waiting lists to get into those…"

"Well, before we ship our daughter off to boarding school, perhaps we could discuss her christening first?" Niles interjected. He turned to C.C. "Did you check with Fran? Is everything all set?"

"Yes, yes…the same non-denominational person that's going to 'marry' us tomorrow is also going to christen Prudi right afterward. Grace is wearing an off-white cocktail dress with lace trim, Noel. Would you please remember to bring her an appropriate corsage?"

"All taken care of, Sis," he smiled. "One Cattelya Orchid Corsage already chilling in my mini-fridge."

"Leave it to the professor to be logical and plan ahead," C.C. said, nudging him playfully. She was pleased that her brother and little Gracie were going to be her daughter's godparents.

"So, Shtewart," Phyllida began, lifting her glass and slurring her words slightly, "what do you think of our children having a schotgun wedding?"

"I think that as long as they're happy…I'm enjoying the hell out of this party!" He clinked glasses with her and everyone laughed.

C.C. was more than exhausted when she finally, gratefully, climbed into bed that night. She reluctantly set her alarm. All she wanted at that moment was to lie down and fall asleep forever. But she had to be up by 9AM to get her hair done and then get dressed and be at the hall. Lord only knew how long it would take for Nanny Fine to get the twins dressed and ready. C.C. had reluctantly agreed to let Jonah and Eve be ring bearer and flower girl, respectively. Niles was already snoring when C.C. turned off her table lamp.

"There isn't enough concealer in the world to cover up these dark circles," C.C. said the next morning as Niles drove her to the hair salon.

"You look beautiful," he replied.

"Oh, tell it to the Marines. I'm a tired, bloated mess. I feel exhausted and cranky. Why did I ever agree to this nonsense?"

"You're just overtired, we got to be awfully late last night," he tried to soothe her.

He dropped her off at the salon and promised to pick her up an hour later. C.C. sank into a chair and handed the stylist a photo of her gown and hat. "My hair has to go with that, if that makes any sense," she mumbled.

As the stylist teased, curled and pinned, C.C. watched in the mirror with limited interest. Suddenly, though, she sat straight up and held out a hand in a "stop" motion. "I don't want it _all_ up in the back…leave some hanging down."

"But you would look so much better with…"

"I **said**, not all of it up," C.C. said with emphasis. The stylist shrugged and continued working. "I have a scar back there," C.C. said quietly, "where my hair won't grow. I don't want it to be noticeable."

"Oh, I see where you mean, right here. Did you have surgery?"

"Well, sort of…"

"My sister had a mole removed on her head, and her hair won't grow in that spot…" the stylist continued in a conversational tone.

"I was shot in the head. I was on a plane that was hijacked, and I got shot. They removed the bullet, but it left a scar." She didn't know why she felt obligated to share that information. Maybe she was overtired or stressed, or maybe she felt like her scar was a symbol of personal triumph that she didn't want shrugged off or overlooked.

The stylist paused at C.C.'s words, her curling iron suspended in mid-air. "Hijacked? I think I read about that in the newspaper. You were…you fell down the stairs…?"

"Yes."

The stylist impulsively threw her arms around C.C. "You are so brave. I am honored to do your hair."

As she continued working, C.C. relaxed a bit and chatted about the wedding, and told her a little about the rehearsal dinner. Finally, the stylist spun her around in the chair and handed her a mirror. "Well….?"

"Perfect," C.C. responded. Her hair had been poofed up in the back a bit, but had curly tendrils hanging all around her head. Her long bangs were gently raised and swept to one side.

Niles was there on time and deposited her at the hall, where her dress and shoes were waiting for her in the dressing room. Fran clucked around her like a mother hen, straightening seams and touching up makeup. In the distance, C.C. heard the DJ playing one of the songs she'd pre-requested:

_Keep your chin up when you're feelin' lonely_

_Don't let them get you down_

_Ain't no use in your sitting all alone_

_Hangin' around for someone to call_

_Ooh they won't come knocking at all_

_Don't run and hide_

_Even if it hurts you inside_

_So I said_

_Give as good as you get_

_If you can't beat 'em, join 'em_

_You'd better do it_

_'Cause it makes you feel good_

_If you can't beat 'em, join 'em_

_You're never gonna help yourself_

There was a knock at the dressing room door. Grace opened it and Max poked his head in. "Are you ready? It's time."

C.C. took a long, last look in the mirror. "I'm ready."


	7. Chapter 7

The processional started, and C.C. stepped out of the dressing room. Fran was poised to march ahead of her, when she paused and whirled around.

"Quick, do I have any lipstick on my teeth?" She retracted her lips, making a horse face.

"Nope, all clear," C.C. assured her.

Fran started down the aisle, grinning broadly, nodding occasionally as she passed the rows of seats. "All she needs is a sash and a tiara," C.C. thought to herself as she watched the self-assured nanny silently "work" the crowd.

"It's time, m'am," Nanny Barnes said in a stage whisper, giving C.C. a little push. She walked down the aisle, carrying a cascade of orchids. Looking ahead, she spotted Niles at the front of the room, a smile illuminating his face. She tried to ignore Evie and Jonah swatting at each other behind her.

She took her place beside Niles, and the minister began the ceremony. They'd decided to go with the traditional vows, since, as Niles had said, "I certainly can't think of anything better."

When C.C. pledged her "I do" and extended her hand, Niles placed upon it the most exquisite white gold band with three channel-set diamonds in it. "For each member of our family," he whispered as he slid it on her finger.

With tears blurring her eyes, C.C. slipped a platinum band on Niles' finger with an embedded braided design. "My life is forever intertwined with yours," she said, her voice quavering ever so slightly.

After they were pronounced husband and wife, Nanny Barnes approached the front with Prudence in her arms. She handed Prudi to Grace and stepped to the side. The slumbering babe was clad in the pristine white christening gown Niles' parents had brought her. She stirred a bit then, and C.C. couldn't help but beam with pride – there was no denying that Prudi was a beautiful baby. Superbly formed head, a fine coating of white-blonde hair, bright blue eyes that were almost violet…"eat your heart out, Gerber Baby," C.C. thought to herself. As Noel and Grace took their official places as godparents, the minister asked them a few brief questions, and then proceeded with the imperturbable words of the blessing. C.C. was not at all religious, but somehow the solemnity of the ceremony brought a lump to her throat, and she was thankful that Fran was standing nearby with a Kleenex at the ready.

Once the ceremonies were complete, everyone adjourned to the adjacent banquet hall for the reception. Even though it was an afternoon affair, there was a DJ and a dance floor, and folks were hustling and electric sliding until the food was served.

"I think this wee one is wanting a nap," Nanny Barnes said to C.C. "Do ye mind if I take her in the back?"

"Of course not," C.C. replied, who was now in full party mode and feeling gracious. "But do please come back and celebrate with us." Fran had arranged for a small, quiet room situated directly off the ballroom, equipped with a crib and other baby sundries. A highly recommended nurse was in attendance, ready to either attend to the baby's needs or summon her mother in case of emergency.

"How are you holding up?" Niles asked, as he snuggled up against C.C. The DJ was playing one of her favorites, "More than This" by Roxy Music, and she automatically pressed up close to him. They began to slow dance. "I'm OK, just a bit tired…" C.C. mumbled.

Niles held her tightly and nuzzled her neck. "You've been tired a lot lately," he murmured into her ear. "I hope everything's OK."

"Of course it is," she said, pulling back and looked into his face. "I've just been under a lot of pressure lately."

After their dance ended, the couple split up to greet their guests.

C.C. approached a clutch of women, then paused, trying to remember who they were, and how she knew them. "I know I'm bad with names, and sometimes faces, but they don't look at all familiar," she thought to herself.

"This salmon is dry," one of the women was saying.

"The prime rib is too rare," another added. "I think my plate just mooed."

"You call this a party?" asked a third. "When my Milton had his boy's bar mitzvah, he paid $35 a head. These people should see such a _simcha._"

"Isn't Milton the one married to that _kvetch_ with the bad nose job?"

They stopped talking and looked up as C.C. uneasily stepped towards them.

"Thank you so much for coming, I hope you're enjoying yourselves," she said politely, then turned to make a quick escape. As she walked away she overheard one of them comment, "Twenty bucks says she's had her eyes done."

"And that's a _total _bleach job!" added another.

"Nanny Fine, who _are_ these people?" C.C. asked Fran, who was swooping by, swapping air-kisses with guests.

"Well, I had to make up numbers," Fran said apologetically. "To get this room at a decent price, I had to guarantee X amount of people. I don't know if you are aware of this, but you don't have very many friends…"

C.C. rolled her eyes.

"Well, anyway, in order to get the group rate, I invited a few folks from Ma's Wednesday Afternoon Canasta Club."

"More than a few," C.C. grunted. "I don't recognize a good half of the people here…."

C.C. wandered away and sunk gratefully into an empty seat at a table. She surreptitiously slipped off her shoes and rubbed one foot against the other. She gazed across the room and saw Max and Niles engrossed in a discussion at another table. She sighed and took a slip of her club soda when an unknown woman took a seat at her table.

"Whew, who knew the Macarena was so tiring? Great party, huh?" she asked C.C.

"Yeah, it's nice," C.C. said without conviction.

"You don't seem to be having fun…?"

"Oh, it's a wonderful party…I'm just very tired…have been for a while, it seems." Why she was unburdening herself to a stranger, she didn't know. Maybe she was more tired than she knew.

"I'm Marcia Rottenberg," the woman said, extending her hand. "I'm Fran's gynecologist."

C.C. shook her hand weakly. "How nice of her to invite you."

"Well, she said she had to make up numbers…." the doctor smiled apologetically.

"So I've heard." C.C. involuntarily reached up her hand and bowed her head.

"Are you OK?" Dr. Rottenberg asked.

"Yes, yes…just a little dizzy spell," C.C. responded. "I've been getting them every now and then."

"Really? Have you seen a doctor about it?"

"No, no need to. I sustained a head injury a while ago…."

Dr. Rottenberg leaned forward and placed her hands on either side of C.C.'s head. She looked steadily into her eyes and then produced a penlight from her purse. "Do me a favor, and follow this with your eyes…"

C.C. pulled away and shook her head in frustration. "My neurologist has checked me out, it has nothing to do with that. I think I've just been stressed over this wedding, and meeting my in-laws…plus I have a baby at home, you know."

"Yes, I saw her at the christening, she's adorable. Is she your first?"

"Thank you, and yes." C.C. sat back and stretched her legs out in front of her. "Since she is my first, and only, I guess I'm still learning as I go along."

"About child care? That's something every mom learns on the job."

"Well, that, and… other stuff. I mean, I thought certainly by now I'd have lost the weight I'd gained. I watch what I eat, and I exercise as much as I can, when I'm not so damned tired…" She stopped and looked at the doctor apologetically. "I'm sorry, this is a party, not a physical examination. I didn't mean to talk your ear off with a roster of my symptoms."

"I don't mind; it's pretty much an occupational hazard in my line of work," Dr. Rottenberg smiled. "So, just for chuckles, since you started this, what other symptoms have you had?"

C.C. shrugged. "Not much else, I guess. I've had some trouble with certain foods not agreeing with me lately, but I think that's due to this damned California heat and humidity. I'm still not used to it."

"Must be rough, trying to take care of a baby when you're not feeling well…how old is your daughter, by the way?"

"Ten months, almost eleven," C.C. replied, automatically smiling as she thought of Prudi.

"And you're a newlywed, how nice…just out of curiosity, what kind of birth control are you using?"

C.C. raised her eyebrows at what she thought was an inappropriate question, but answered nonetheless. "I'm breastfeeding."

"That's commendable, but that wasn't my question."

C.C. sighed and spoke slowly, as though she was talking to a child. "I'm breastfeeding…you can't get pregnant while you're nursing."

"Who told you that?"

"Why, well…." C.C. thought for a moment. "Everyone just knows that, of course. Besides, I think I saw it on the Discovery Health channel or something."

Dr. Rottenberg chuckled. "In the first six months of the baby's life, if you're not supplementing her with any other food source, then the chances of becoming pregnant are less than 2. But, after six months, those odds increase…"

Her voice trailed off and was replaced with a knowing smile. "Oh, please," C.C. said, standing up. "Nanny Fine paid you to come here and annoy me, right? She just couldn't stand to see me have a pleasant afternoon, so she needed to stir up some trouble…"

Marcia stood up and reached out towards C.C. "I didn't mean to upset you, but I'm concerned about your dizzy spells. Please. See your own doctor as soon as you can. Or, if you'd like, I'd be glad to schedule an appointment for you." She dug into her purse again and handed C.C. her business card.

"Sure, I'll think about it. Thanks. It was nice meeting you," C.C. said and moved on to another table. She sat down and was shortly joined by Phyllida.

"Your father is such a marvelous dancer," she gushed, taking a sip of champagne.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," C.C. replied without enthusiasm.

Phyllida hadn't noticed C.C.'s disdain and reached over to clasp her hands. "You know, dear," ("Dear"? C.C. thought to herself. How much bubbly has this woman consumed?) "Malcolm and I are so very pleased to see what a good mother you are to our granddaughter. We had our doubts, of course, when Niles first wrote us that you were expecting…"

"Doubts?" C.C. felt her hackles rising.

"Well, dear, you _did_ have a habit of leaving your dog in taxi cabs!" Phyllida playfully prodded C.C. in the shoulder.

"I see Niles felt compelled to fill you in on _every_ aspect of my life," C.C. grumbled.

"He simply shared them as amusing anecdotes, that's all."

"Well, I'm glad that my daily exploits made for some interesting fodder…"

"Oh, please don't take offense," Phyllida leaned forward and clasped C.C.'s forearms. "Besides, once Nanny Barnes was in place, we knew she had a handle on the situation…"

C.C. shook her head, trying to comprehend. "What? What do you mean, 'in place'?"

Phyllida drained the last of her champagne and gestured at a waiter for a refill. "You must understand, we didn't know much about you other what Niles wrote in his letters. He always spoke of you in glowing terms, of course, but.." She paused and took a sip of Cristal. "Well, it seemed to us that your strengths lay more in the world of commerce than in mothering… Please believe me when I say that we were just watching out for our first grandchild."

"What are you talking about?"

"Malcolm pulled a few strings…when you applied to the Beverly Hills recruitment agency (as we knew you would when you moved to Los Angeles) for a nanny, he made sure that Gwendolyn was assigned to you. She is highly qualified, we've known her for years – she was previously the nanny to Lord Frederick and Lady Gabriella of Kent, you know."

"So you're telling me that you placed a..a mole, a _spy_ in my household?"

"You make it sound so…sordid. She's not a spy, per se – it's not like she reported back to us or anything. We just wanted to make sure someone suitable was caring for our granddaughter when you went back to…whatever it is you do.

C.C. was seething and spoke between clenched teeth. "Was Niles in on your little scheme?"

"Of course not, duckie," Phyllida giggled and drained her glass once more. A waiter appeared out of nowhere to refill it. "Why would Niles ever agree to something like that? For heaven's sake, according to him," she suddenly burbled with laughter, "The sun shines right out of your bum…." Phyllida dissolved into giggles and struggled to control herself. "My son made it clear years ago that he worships the ground you walk on. That's why I knew clearer heads needed to intervene…"

Phyllida wiped her eyes and composed herself. She leaned forward and gently placed a hand on C.C.'s knee. "We sincerely meant no harm, dear. I hope someday you'll understand." With that she got up and left, presumably in search of a refill, or so C.C. thought.

"So when does the father of the bride get his dance?" A voice behind her asked.

C.C. smiled and reached out to Stuart's extended arms. "I'm up for it, if you are," she replied.

He easily guided her out onto the dance floor as the DJ played an oldie, "Ebony Eyes" by Bob Welch. "Do you remember how to tango?" he asked his daughter.

"You didn't pay for all those cotillion classes for nothing," C.C. responded, squaring her shoulders.

As the pair glided effortlessly across the dance floor, Stuart looked down at his daughter. "You're all tense, Kitten. I saw you talking with your mother-in-law. What's bothering you?"

"Oh, it's nothing I can explain at the moment," C.C. sighed as her father dipped her. But nevertheless, as they continued to dance, she spilled the story of Nanny Barnes being "planted" by Niles' parents.

The song ended, and the guests applauded. C.C. looked around her, not realizing until that moment that the dance floor had emptied to allow her and her father to dance solo. They bowed slightly in acknowledgment, and the DJ started another song. Stuart led C.C. over to a table.

"Don't take this the wrong way," he began, "but I can sort of see their point of view."

C.C. was gathering for an explosion, he could see, so he hastened to continue.

"Think about it. Suppose, 20 years from now, Prudi was 3,000 miles away and planning to marry some man you'd never met? Wouldn't you worry about her?"

"I don't think that – "

"I'm not saying I agree with their tactics," Stuart interrupted his daughter, "but I do see where they're coming from." He reached over and propped up her chin. "To be honest, I could picture you doing something very similar under those circumstances."

C.C. sighed and sat back in her chair. "Maybe…" She thought for a moment and then sighed. "I guess it's not that different from planting someone in the audience at one of Andrew Lloyd Webber's plays… sort of…"

Stuart stood up as Niles approached C.C.'s chair. "One thing I've learned, Kitten, is that life is too short to hold a grudge. Try not to be too angry at them." He smiled and headed back towards the dance floor.

"Angry at whom?" Niles inquired as he wrapped his arms around C.C. from behind. He planted a kiss on the top of her head and then walked around and grabbed a chair. "What did I miss?" he asked as he sat down.

"Oh, nothing at all, really," C.C. smiled as she leaned forward and straightened his boutonnière.

Niles moved in close to her ear and growled, "You are tantalizing my nipple, Madam."

C.C. giggled as one hand involuntarily flew to her mouth, and she swatted at Niles with the other.

"So what were you and Maxwell discussing so earnestly over there?" she asked her husband. "You two were so wrapped up in your conversation you missed the Chicken Dance **and** the Hokey Pokey. And remind me to **_not _**tip the DJ, because I expressly told him not to play those…."

"Well, to be honest, Max did have some rather exciting news…"

"Oh?"

"Yes, but I think it's better left until we're at home and relaxed before I go into it…too noisy here, and you look exhausted."

"Now that you mention it, I really could stand to get home and out of these clothes…" She kicked playfully at Niles when he raised his eyebrows lasciviously. "…and into my fuzzy bathrobe."

Niles glanced at his watch. "I think we can leave gracefully now without offending anyone. Let me just go tell Fran…"

"…and I'll find Nanny Barnes and get Prudi," C.C. added.

The nurse was just providing Prudi with a fresh diaper when C.C. entered the room. "Thank you so much for your help," she smiled, slipping an envelope into the woman's hand. "I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

"She couldn't have been better," the white-clad figure said, shaking C.C.'s hand. "If you ever need any help in the future…" She extended her other hand which contained a business card.

"I'll definitely keep you in mind," C.C. responded, taking the card and gathering her daughter in her arms.

"Here ye are now," a booming Scottish accent announced as Nanny Barnes burst through the door. "Are we all ready to go, then? I'll just take her things…" she picked up the diaper bag and then held the door open for C.C. to exit.

"Hold it! Hold everything!" Fran called as she ran towards C.C. "You can't leave yet, you haven't tossed your bouquet!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, must I?"

"What kind of wedding is it if you don't throw your bouquet? Now you take this – " she grabbed Prudence from C.C.'s arms and handed her to Nanny Barnes. She then turned to a nearby table, grabbed the bunch of orchids C.C. had been carrying earlier that day " – and you take these," and thrust them into C.C.'s arms. "Now go over by the double doors there, and wait, and I'll have the DJ give you your cue."

C.C. did as ordered, and found Niles waiting for her by the door. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she said under her breath to him.

"Oh, let's just humor Fran so we can get out of here," he said, giving C.C. a quick peck on the cheek.

The music had stopped, and the DJ instructed all the single women to gather around the bride. After a few minutes of confusion and laughter, a semi-circle formed around C.C. She turned her back to the crowd and, not knowing what else to say, yelled "Heads up!" as she threw the cascade of orchids. The heavy bouquet didn't travel very far, but they flew just far enough for Grace to catch them with one hand. She pulled the fragrant flowers close to her face and smiled. Cameras flashed all around, and Fran could be heard in the background shouting "No way! Not my baby! She's too young!"

C.C. and Niles made their way out to the limo, where Nanny Barnes was already waiting. Prudi was snugly strapped into her car seat, and the quartet set off for home.

"Driver?" C.C. called to the front of the car. "Can we please stop at Rite Aid on the way home?"

"Yes, m'am."

"What do ye need, m'um?" Nanny Barnes asked when they pulled into the parking lot. "I'd be pleased to go get it for ye."

"Oh, don't trouble yourself, I won't be a minute," C.C. said as she slid out of the car. Niles looked after her in puzzlement.

"I'll be damned if I'm going to ask her to buy me a home pregnancy test," C.C. thought to herself as she wandered the aisles.


End file.
